Is There Healing Power in Christmas Memories?

I know I’m revealing my age by admitting I remember the old Christmas song from childhood called, I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUSE. I’m only mentioning it to say, I never saw my Mommy kissing Santa Clause but I did run into him in line at our Safeway supermarket the other day. The Santa Clause I saw looked almost too perfect. He had coiffed grey hair, a flowing white beard and the cutest large red sweat suit I’ve ever spotted. When I asked his sweet wife about his appearance, they were accustomed to the questions and handed me a million dollar bill with his picture on it. Never saw one of those before; don’t even know if there is a real one. Yes, I’m serious in this instance and as an incredibly impressive Santa’s helper, he is apparently earning a decent living; particularly this time of the year. Since he and “Mrs. Claus” were ahead of me in the check-out line, they left before I could check out their mode of transportation and didn’t get to hear any “Ho, Ho, Ho” as he flew out of sight; nor do I know if he hollered, “And to all a good night.”

The television stations are making Christmas movies as fast as they can write the scripts and haul out the sentimentality. I confess I love them unless they get a bit too corny and on that subject I will have to say “Corny is in the eye of the beholder.” I’ve noticed a few newer films over the last few years that have more substance than others as they display the family love and spirit of giving and forgiveness that has become Christmas and Hanukkah in America. Some are exhibiting religious themes to perhaps remind us all of the true beginnings of Christmas for those of us who are believers. These films always have a happy ending unless they’re made by some Hollywood mogul who is aiming for shock value. Black Christmas just doesn’t glitter nor inspire.

Many folks are complaining about the early and obvious plea for the commercial side of this particular holiday. Others grow quite upset during the Christmas season and one has to wonder why. There are as many reasons as there are depressed people but the top of the list seems to be occupied by grief, financial troubles and unhappy childhood memories. For many of us who live with chronic pain, life can be dismal enough but when we are faced with the memories of Christmas past, we seem to swing either toward the euphoric high of the season and hear the jingling of sleigh bells or we hit the skids of dark depression.

Some memories remain with us longer than others. Most of us older folk can remember where we were when we heard President Kennedy had been assassinated. In the same way we remember Christmases past and the delight or the pain from them. When you live with chronic pain, it’s usually a daily struggle to find joy. That’s just the way it is. Beat somebody with that little hammer of pain long enough and they’re going to get cranky. When you add cranky to cold, challenging weather, shopping, cooking and wrapping, oh my, Mr. Scrooge look out because we can outdo you every time.

I learned several years ago as a veteran of this way of life that all major holidays take planning, alterations and compromise. Each of us must choose what matters to us and put that at the top of the list. We can no longer have it all…if we ever did. I think I used to pretend I did. That’s the most truthful I can be about that subject because it’s so relative and subjective, like happiness. I have friends who mail or give gift certificates instead of actual wrapped presents. I can’t do this. I do send gifts of food to my son and his family in Texas and they love that. Don’t misunderstand please; I don’t cook it, I just order it for them. It eases up the load on my son and daughter-in-law for kitchen duty and the kids all love the surprise treats.

I used to make many of my Christmas gifts but don’t really have the time nor energy to do much of that today. I am making a pirate island for my youngest grandson and need to get started on that today. Over the years I’ve made quilts, pillows, needlework and a various assortment of goodies. Some have become keepsakes while others were jokes and brought some merriment to the day. My youngest granddaughter was born in early December, 7 years ago and my son-in-law who is quite squeamish about all things medical (and he married into this family?) was appalled by the mess my daughter made of the socks she wore in delivery. Hey, birth isn’t pretty but it is holy. Well, back to my story; I took the socks home and washed them and wrapped them as a gift for my son-in-law that year. Another year it was a pink, ruffled apron imprinted with, “TIME TO PUT ON YOUR BIG GIRL PANTIES.” Now it’s my pleasure to come up with humorous gifts each year for him. By the way, he didn’t exactly love the socks. Aghast, he threw them into the air as I recall. One year I made one of my favorite nephews a pillow, sort of Dolly Parton style like an old corset with boobies…he loved it. Indeedy, homemade gifts are good to make and a pleasure to receive, usually.

We have each had our years when funds were low and smaller, less expensive gifts were a necessity. I’ve certainly had my share of those, also, over the years. One year when I was a single Mom with my children, we got together with other single friends and their children and broke a piñata. You hear it’s not the cost of the gift that matters but our children and grandchildren need to be taught that factoid thanks to the ads on TV. Other families have chosen to donate to charities instead of giving gifts. Some of us are blessed enough to do both. Above all Christmas should not be a time of competition between family members or friends. In this very materialistic world, it’s often difficult to keep the spirit of Christmas in the forefront. Stories of faith, carols and lighted church candles are also part of my memories and I know they are a part of yours.

I remember one year when I was a little angel in a Christmas pageant and had to sing AWAY IN A MANGER, all alone on that stage. I was terrified. I think my older sisters volunteered me for that; I was about seven or eight years-old. Many of us remember going caroling in the frosty air. In fact we had carolers at our door last Christmas Eve. It was wonderful, including old-fashioned lanterns, etc. We shared our cookies and strudel with them, in thanks.

I know, for many individuals who are racked with pain and illness, Christmas is not a happy time. It is for me. My family and I have lost loved ones and we miss them but we are still alive. For me, the loss of a loved one makes life all the more precious and the time on this earth even more valuable. I lost a dear friend two years ago who loved Christmas and we will miss her every year just as I miss my parents and eldest sister each year. We do have our memories of them and they are precious. My Mom and her Bourbon cherry cakes bring to mind her embarrassment when she had to buy the Bourbon because she was a Baptist teetotaler. The checker at the store always got a full explanation that she wasn’t buying it to drink, only to bake. I always remember the pixie look on my Dad’s face when he found an excuse each year to disappear during dinner to take gifts the long way around to the front porch and rang sleigh bells before he scurried back into the house. We didn’t have a fireplace so our gifts from Santa were always left on the front porch of our ranch style home in California.

I know it’s painful but I would urge you to put grief aside and remember your loved ones who are gone as they lived, not as they died. If we believe in the true meaning of Christmas, it’s about birth, hope and love.

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ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Sue Falkner-Wood

Sue Falkner-Wood is a retired registered nurse living in Astoria, Ore., with her husband, who is also an R.N. Sue left nursing in 1990 due to chronic pain and other symptoms related to what was eventually...read more